


War Dogs

by mm8



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Dogs, M/M, Soldiers, book blogger!thorin, excuse to have the boys dripping wet, personal trainer!dwalin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/pseuds/mm8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think we should get a dog."</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [dew-akas](http://dew-akas.tumblr.com/). They requested "Dwalin/Thorin, something cute AU or Fili/Kili, shenanigans or/and first meeting with new boyfriend or dear uncle Thorin"
> 
> Thank you for following me, reblogging, and generally being so awesome. I hope you enjoy this fic. 
> 
> Special thanks to my Camp Nano group. :-)
> 
> NOTES: ARC- Advanced Readers Copy  
> Net Galley- A site where book reviewers and other professional readers can read books before they are published, in digital form. 
> 
> Scooby-Doo is based on a few dogs I've known. One was my aunt's Boston Terrier, Sparky, who would always hump me. Always. Kind of traumatic for a kid who is starting puberty and stuff to have a dog hump you on sight. Love how my cousin told me recently that she hated Sparky too. Thank you dear. This same aunt had another dog named Jack who I was just so big when I was young and he scared me, even though I am pretty sure he wanted little or nothing to do with me. My other aunt has a bulldog named Sophie, who I vividly remember drooling everywhere. Lastly, is my friend's father's dog who is a Great Dane. I don't recall that dog's name. I met him when I was around 17 or 18 and I was just like 'holy shit this is the biggest dog I have ever seen in my life'. My friend, such a cat lover, told me how this particular Dane had been known to kill cats and kittens on the farm. Well, about a year or two later, guess what happened? That Great Dane severally injured my friend's kitten. Like it lost an eye, it had internal damages, etc. It broke my heart. I even helped pay for the kitten's medical bills. The kitten lived for a couple weeks after the attack, but ultimately died. And of course, her father never apologized for any of it. Not to hate on Great Danes, but I have not had a good experience with them as you can see.

"I think we should get a dog."

Thorin cursed to himself that he'd been interrupted while reading his novel. It was an ARC he'd received from Net Galley about the Battle of Britain. He wanted to finish in time to review it for his book blog before the book was archived on the site tomorrow. He was only a quarter of the way through and it was such a slow read. He took his eyes off his ereader for a moment. "What did you say?"

Dwalin was looking at him with a serious stare. He'd been in the pool for about an hour doing laps, but at some point he'd stopped and was leisurely leaning over the side, his arms folded over the edge. His black beard was dripping wet, his goggles pushed up his forehead. "I think we should get a dog."

Thorin was relaxing in the safe shade under the umbrella at the outdoor table, his feet propped up on another chair. The blogger set his ereader aside, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why do you want a dog all of a sudden?"

Without a word, Dwalin easily pushed himself out of their swimming pool using his upper body strength. His muscular chest flexed as he stood all the way up, the giant Fenrir tattoo that stretched across his left pectoral muscle glistened beautifully in the summer sun. The personal trainer strode across the patio to the fence where his towel hung and dried off.

Thorin couldn't help but ogle his partner. It was difficult not to. Dwalin had kept up with his strict exercise regime and had stayed fit even after the they'd been discharged from the army. Dwalin was practically the perfect male specimen. It made sense his partner made a life as a personal trainer. 

Dwalin occupied the seat where Thorin was resting his feet, and resituated so his extremities were cushioned on his thighs. "Wouldn't you want a dog at your feet as you read?"

"What? As opposed to you?" The former soldier couldn't help but laugh out loud as his comrade smacked his thighs. "Ow, I know you can hit harder than that," he teased.

Dwalin hummed from deep in his throat, "Hmm, just you wait 'til later."

What was applied in his partner's tone sent shivers down Thorin's spine.

"But c'mon, wouldn't your loyal followers just love pictures of you reading with your cute Great Dane?"

Thorin wrinkled his nose. "Great Dane? Why would we have a Great Dane? They are so gigantic. Most of them come up to my waist."

"Balin and I had a Great Dane growing up."

"Scooby-Doo, I remember," Thorin frowned deeply. He recalled as a child being frightened of his friend's dog. It literally towered over him at a young age. Scooby-Doo would slobber huge globs of drool onto any surface. He'd climb into your lap and refuse to leave. And for some reason he had a fascination with his sister, Dis, and anytime she'd come over to play at Balin and Dwalin's house, the dog upon seeing her would jump on her and hump. "I hated that dog. Your parents never apologized when it killed Frerin's kitten."

Dwalin ducked his head, biting his lower lip. "Scooby-Doo was kind of a shit dog. Mom and dad were pretty attached to him. Not that is any excuse. Balin and I said sorry. We even helped pay for its medical bills."

"But they didn't," Thorin empathized. "It was their dog and they never said a word."

Tense silence filled the air between them. Thorin could hear the kids from next door playing Marco Polo in their pool, splashing and squealing when they had been caught. A typical summer afternoon.

"Shit," Dwalin rubbed his tattoo covered arm. "I shouldn't have started it out that way."

Thorin reached over and massaged his comrade's shoulder. "What did you want to say?"

His partner furrowed his brow. "Remember Cerberus?"

Thorin quirked his eyebrow. What kind of question was that? Of course he remembered that canine. Cerberus was a giant Belgian Malinois that served with their unit. 

"I skyped with Nori the other day. He and the rest of the guys say hey, by the way. Near the end of the call, he happened to mention that they are retiring Cerberus. It could be a slim chance, but if you agreed, we might be able to adopt him. He's probably going to have some PTSD symptoms and--"

"It's fine."

Dwalin snapped his gaze up. "What? Just like that? No argument or debating? Or what about we can barely take care of ourselves, how can we look after a dog too? Or bring up that it will most definitely be you picking up its shit? Nothing?"

Thorin removed his feet from his partner's shin and scooted his chair closer. He leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. "It's Cerberus. He saved our lives more than a dozen times."

Dwalin wrapped his strong arms around Thorin's shoulders, burying his face into his neck, and breathed. "Thank you," he murmured against his partner's sun kissed skin. 

Thorin nibbled on Dwalin's ear. "Stop being so mushy. It doesn't suit you." He peered over to the clock they had mounted by the door. 3:48pm. "Shouldn't you get going? Didn't you have a meet-up with your weight-lifting buddies at the movies?" 

Dwalin glanced at the clock. "Shit, you're right. You sure you don't want to be my plus one?"

"Hmm go with you and sit through a dull indie drama with a bunch of weeping babies or stay here and finish my book for my job. I think we both know what I am choosing."

Dwalin kissed his cheek as he stood. He might have been imagining it but Thorin was sure he saw a visible tent in his partner's speedos.

Once Dwalin was safely inside, Thorin opened up the internet on his ereader sent the service dog application form to the printer. Work could wait a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> * Kudos are amazing and I will never stop asking for them, but getting comments, actual feedback from readers means so much. Taking five seconds out of your time can really make my day.
>   
> 


End file.
